


Metal & FIre

by MaladaptiveNinjaReturns



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:12:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns/pseuds/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns
Summary: A very sick you gets a warm and fuzzy pick-me-up





	Metal & FIre

“ _Please_ don’t do this, Bucky.”  
“Why not?”

“You might be a super soldier but I am sick and viruses don’t see a difference between a weak ass human and a serum enhanced butthead.”  
Bucky appeared through your door, his hands filled with snacks- mostly juices and fruits for you- and a brown plastic box.  
“Rude. I ain’t a weak ass butthead,” he responded with just a simple stare before plopping on your bed by your side. You groaned loudly, almost making him freeze, thinking he might’ve have hurt you while landing on your semi-hard mattress.  
It was already hard to get through a normal day this past one month through your training when you’d finally come to terms that your feelings for Bucky were more than just a crush, and now when your mind needed to focus on fighting the virus infecting you, his presence was making the already hot body of yours more feverish. And you knew for a fact that your codien laden meds were not going to help you in any shape or form today as just moments ago when you’d talked to Wanda, everything you thought you were feeling on the inside had been pouring out like waterfall and she had taken full advantage of the situation, giggling at your responses to her twenty random questions; a dam that had been given a tunnel to divert the fishes in the water to the sea outside.  
“My entire existence hurts right now,” you winced, falling into your pillow. Sitting up for even ten minutes had seemed like a task.  
“It’s eleven hundred hours now. Doc said you need to have something every two hours. Have a glass of juice and take some rest.”  
You could hear the clink of the glass on your bedside and the opening of the juice bottle. His presence in your apartment, inside your bedroom, seemed so unusually warm- not the feverish warmth that you were forced to go through right now, more of a comfortable presence. It felt good knowing that you weren’t alone when you were in such agony- both physical and mental.  
“Here, come on. Just sit up for five more minutes.” You felt Bucky’s flesh hand come behind your shoulder, creating a shiver that ran down through your nerves.  
“Jesus, you’re hot,” he whispered as he slowly pulled you up, never realising the weight of his words on you.  
“Shhh,” you ordered, “think before you speak, damnit!” Catching him in surprised confusion.  
“What? You _are_ hot. I could crack an egg over you and make an omelette right now,” he announced, clearly clueless of the colours you were seeing in his presence.  
“I’d prefer caramel, maybe,” you thought you spoke inside your head but the words under your breath didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, they were creating an unknown flurry of their own in the breaths of the person next to you.  
Fixing four pillows behind you- two for your back and two for your head and neck, he eased you into the feathery fluff, concerned every now and then when your brows furrowed at the internal pain.  
Bucky picked up the glass filled with pomegranate and orange juice and brought it in front of you. “Here.”  
Your hand had gone for the glass but landed over his metal, feeling the coolness soothe your hot palms as he managed to get the glass closer to your lips.  
You mimicked your touch again when he gave you your meds and helped you take it down with some cold water.  
“Mmm,” you moaned, taking in the final gulp of the delicious coldness, “remove your glove.”  
After what seemed like an eternity to you- which was a minute of soft bewilderment for him- he freed his metal from the glove and watched you take his palm in your hands and raising them to your burning forehead.  
“Ahh, yes,” you exhaled with a newfound relief.  
Bucky chuckled. “You want to use my metal as a cooling pad?”  
He saw you open your eyes fully for the first time that day to look at him with those tired but serious y/e/c pupils, making him pause everything, even his breath for those few seconds. “Yes, please, Buck.”  
Bucky’s Mediterranean eyes rested over your soft features pleading him while burning under the sheets. His lungs paused for a moment as his mind registered your request, feeling stars crinkling all over his skin.  
“O-Okay,” he cleared his throat as he got up and walked across to your side, “scooch.”  
A smile washed over your chapped lips out of nowhere as you- ever so idiotically in all your frenzy- put all your strength in your arms to move sideways where Bucky had earlier been, only to wince as they gave way under you.  
“Not like that, doll!” Bucky’s worried voice made you turn towards him, only to run your nose smack into his jaw as bent down to help you.  
“Ow!”  
“Sorry,” he apologised before sliding one arm under your thighs and other behind your back to lift you up a little before gently placing you a bit further from where he stood.  
“Is that good?” He whispered close to your ear, sending one deliciously cold shiver through your blazing limbs. “I don’t know, is this enough space for us to cuddle comfortably?”  
Your words caught him by surprise, making him freeze as he was half bent over you, trying to compose himself to the best of his abilities.  
Your giggles broke through the air, allowing him to forget the reason why his face was flushed so much as he was caught in the moment of watching you laugh in what was your most vulnerable he had seen you in.  
“Just sit down you dork,” you cajoled, taking his arm and pushing him down by your side.  
“Don’t make me work today, Sargeant,” you moaned, the last word stretched with such an uncanny playfulness, you nearly gave Bucky breathing problems.  
“Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky voiced his concern as he sat down next to you, your heated shoulder grazing his cool muscles.  
“Never better, darling,” you exclaimed through half opened eyes as you moved your blanket away and invited him in.  
Bucky calculated the idea of dirtying your soft, fluffy blanket with his presence but finally gave in- moving his legs up- because you wouldn’t stop nudging him to ‘get in already’.  
He watched you tuck him in with such seriousness over your face, amused at your need to take care of him even when you were the one who needed it the most.  
“Now do me, Sarge.” You said in all seriousness, making Bucky’s eyes open wide in horror.  
“W-what?”  
“What do you mean 'what’? Give me your metal. My body’s boiling!” You announced before straightening your back, drawing yourself a little away from him, making him finally get what you wanted.  
Cursing himself under his breath, Bucky slightly shifted his left side a bit behind you before placing his hand over your shoulder to smoothly pull you back in his metal embrace.  
“Ahhh! Yes!”  
Your moan sent a surprising tingle through Bucky, his muscles tensing for a second at the touch of your- now aggravated- warmth over his chest.  
Watching you nuzzle with your eyes closed in his chest sent an unfamiliar feeling all around his heart as if someone had opened it and kept a glowing orb filled with nothing but wholesome fervour.  
He watched your flushed face, the similar colour in your cheeks he would secretly gape at when he would train you till you were sweating and breathless, and marvelled at how softly the colour would just touch your skin but would still be evident for the one who looked at you- _really_ looked at you.  
He removed your strands glowing under the bright sunlight coming from your window, softened by the peach curtains, grazing his cold metal near your cheeks before tucking your frizzled locks behind your ear. The smile that erupted on your pulsating lips on the touch of his metal fingers melted his insides. _Oh Y/N_ , he thought, _do you have any idea what you do to me_.  
You both had no idea what you were doing to each other though _your_ emotions were spilling a bit today, thanks to your fried brain and dizzy state.  
Bucky let his fingers kiss the hairs visible on your jaw, making them dance under his touch.  
“Woah!” Your head shot up, making Bucky retreat his hand in some unspoken fear.  
“What?” Was his immediate response. “Something wrong? Did I-”  
“Your feet are the right amount of cold can you please take some heat away from mine?” You pleaded.  
You two sat there in silence for good twenty seconds, your tired puppy eyes looking at his blank blue glistening in the sunlight.  
He exhaled, sending your rebellious strands in a fizzy dance, and shook his head before you felt his soothing coldness under the blanket. You smiled at him before going back to nuzzling in the warmth of his chest.  
“You are chipper when sick, do you know that, doll?” Bucky couldn’t help himself from commenting as he wrapped his metal arm around you, making you groan into his chest.  
“I am chipper when I am in the mood,” you scowled, which made Bucky suppress the urge to chuckle,“it’s just the medicines making me weak today.”  
“Is that so?” He sang sweetly near your ear, making you nod in acknowledgement.  
“And not many people make me chipper,” you shrugged.  
You could hear his heartbeat flutter near your ear pressed over his chest.  
“And I seem to do just that, doll?” he cooed into your hair before absentmindedly stroking it.  
“Stop,” you begged as you wiggled under the covers, “don’t call me 'doll’,” making another chuckle escape his throat.  
“Why not?”  
“It does things to me.”  
The stroking stopped.  
“What things?” His husky tone was serious.  
“Things, Bucky,” you sang matter-of-factly.  
“Wh-”  
“Things that make me want to take your face in my hands and kiss you so softly but so hard.”  
A sporadic banging around your temples made you wonder if your heart was overworking from all the oversharing, never realising it was Bucky’s accelerated heartbeat.  
Bucky finally breathed, watching your furrowed brows. He carefully placed his hand over your arm, running it over your skin to soothe down whatever it was that was worrying you.  
“I didn’t know you felt the same way,” he whispered, his tensed knots coming undone one by one as this pleasant reality dawned on him.  
“Yeah, see?” You chimed softly, “I don’t know if you feel the same way and I am a fucking dense rock when I’m around you.”  
He cocked his brows at your words. “Hey,” he announced as smoothly but sternly as possible, “you are not a dense rock. You are the kindest woman I’ve ever met and you deserve the world, doll.”  
“Buckyyy!” You squirmed.  
“Sorry.”  
“So what do you think will happen?” You looked up at him, your clear y/e/c pupils lit up with a warm fire.  
“Hmm?”  
“What’ll happen when I tell you I like you?”  
His internal resistance failed so wonderfully, filling the room with his light laughter as you stared at him in genuine confusion.  
“Okay. I think you should sleep now,” Bucky finally responded, bringing the covers over your shoulders.  
“But you didn’t answer my question.” The hurt in your voice came out as a mumble. You wiggled a little under the blanket till you found a comfortable position to lay in, inside Bucky’s embrace.  
“You’ll get your answer soon. Oh, and _by the way_ , you didn’t want me here in the first place for the fear of making me sick, right?”  
You quickly brought the blanket around him tucking the both of you in before wrapping your arms around his chest with no intention of letting go.  
“Butthead,” you murmured before a yawn escaped you, making Bucky smile as he continued stroking your hair.  
“Yeah. I _am_ a butthead, aren’t I…doll?”


End file.
